


Tight Spot

by StBridget



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 07:25:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10917108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StBridget/pseuds/StBridget
Summary: When your enemies have you trapped, there's nowhere to go but through them.  Unfortunately, it's hard to make it out unscathed.





	Tight Spot

**Author's Note:**

> MacGyver is property of CBS and its creators.
> 
> Based on the prompt: "Oh, look at all the pretties." "Can you please stop talking about assault rifles the same way you talk about shoes?"

“Riley, get us out of here!” Jack yelled into his earpiece as he fired madly at the goons chasing them.

“I can’t!” Riley replied, slightly hysterical.  “The exit’s behind you!”

Jack took a minute to curse whoever designed bunkers.  This one had a straight layout—one entrance, one main corridor, no windows.  Mac and Jack had run into it to escape the bad guys who had spotted them in the compound, hoping they could barricade themselves in.  They hadn’t counted on there being thugs _inside_ the bunker.  In hindsight, that was probably a mistake.

“In here, kid!” Jack said, flinging open the nearest door and shoving Mac inside.  Jack let off another volley before following, smirking in satisfaction as one of the guys went down.  He surveyed the room as Mac frantically shoved things against the door in the hopes of slowing down their pursuers.

Jack’s eyes lit up as he saw the racks of guns and ammo.  “Oooh, look at all the pretties!”

“Can you please stop talking about assault rifles the same way other people talk about shoes?” Mac said.  He finished blocking the door just as hammering started from the other side.  The younger agent prayed the barricade would hold long enough for the goons to get bored and go away, but somehow, he didn’t think so.

“These are much better than shoes,” Jack said, loading up one of the rifles and clicking the side into place.  He sighted down the barrel.  “Nice.  Now we have a fighting chance.”

“Not if they get through that door,” Mac said as the bad guys shot out the lock.  “An assault rifle’s not going to do much good in close quarters.”  There was the sound of men throwing themselves against the door.  Mac held his breath, but the barricade held. 

“That’s what a pistol’s for,” Jack said, as he reloaded his.

Mac kept his eyes glued on the door, watching as the barricade started sliding across the floor, inch by slow inch.  “I think you’re going to need it.  I’m not sure how long this will hold.”

“Surely, with all these explosives, you can come up with something,” Jack said.

It was Mac’s turn to catalog the contents of the room.  “I can rig up some flash-bangs.”

“Can’t you make something a little bigger?” Jack asked as the barricade slid another inch.

“Not with what’s here,” Mac replied.  “Contrary to popular belief, gunpowder doesn’t pack that much of a punch.  I could throw a match into the whole thing, which would do the trick.  It would also blow us up along with it.”

“Not a good plan,” Jack said.  “Flash-bangs it is.  Just hurry.”

Mac complied, hastily pulling together everything he needed.  “Okay,” he said when he was ready.

Jack pushed aside the barricade, and he and Mac closed their eyes as the door opened and Mac threw his grenades.  While the bad guys were still trying to clear their vision, Jack charged through them like a linebacker, shoving them aside, Mac on his tail.

The bad guys recovered quickly, firing down the hall after the two agents.  Jack, half-turned around to fire back, caught a bullet to the chest and went down, but he recovered enough to get off two kill shots, taking out the last of the goons.

Mac reached the door and opened it enough to poke his head out and take stock.  He jerked back quickly and slammed the door again.  “They’re still out there.  We’re going to have to run for it.”

Jack was struggling to rise from where he’d fallen.  “Yeah, about that.  We may have a problem.”

Mac turned around.  His partner was half-sitting, half-lying, hand pressed to the right side of his chest.  Even from this distance, Mac could see blood leaking around it.  He rushed to Jack’s side, kneeling down beside his partner.  “How bad is it?” the younger agent asked.

“Bad,” Jack gasped, losing the struggle to sit and falling back on the ground.  “I think they may have hit an artery.”

“Let’s see.”  Mac gently removed Jack’s hand.  Blood spurted up as soon as the pressure was removed.  “Shit, I think you’re right.  We’ve got to get you out of here.”

“Don’t see how,” Jack said.  “You said yourself they’re still out there, and I’m not running anywhere in this condition.  I’m too heavy for you to carry.”

“We’ll think of something.”  Mac toggled his headset.  “Riley, we need an extraction team to our location stat, with medical.  Jack’s hit.”

“On it,” the hacker said. 

Matty’s voice broke in.  “How long can you boys hang in there?”

“Well, cover-wise, we’re shut in a concrete bunker, so they’re not getting in for a while.  But, Jack’s hit pretty bad, and I don’t know how long he can hold on.”

Riley’s voice came back on the line.  “A team can be there in 20 minutes.”

“Okay.”  Mac signed off and turned back to Jack.  The blood was still flowing heavily, Jack’s breathing was shallow, and his eyes were glazing over.  “You hear that, buddy?” Mac said to him.  “Hang in there.”

“Not sure I can,” Jack gasped.

“You have to,” Mac said, almost desperately.  He couldn’t lose Jack, he just couldn’t.  Jack was his partner, his best friend, and, though Mac would never admit it out loud, something more.  If Jack died, something in Mac would die, too.  First Nikki, then Jack.  Mac didn’t think his heart could stand being broken a second time.

“Trying,” Jack said, but his voice was weaker, and it was clear he was struggling to hold on to consciousness.

Mac ripped off his shirt and pressed it to Jack’s wound, but it did little good.  The blood was rapidly soaking through.  _Think, Mac,_ he told himself.  _You’re good at improvising.  Surely, you can think of something_.

Mac got an idea.  He ran back to the storeroom and got a box of bullets.  He returned to Jack.  Mac pried open a bullet and dumped the powder on Jack’s wound.

“What are you doing?” the older man asked.

“Cauterizing the wound,” Mac replied.  “Brace yourself.  This is going to hurt.”

Mac suited actions to words.  Jack screamed at the pain, blacking out from the intensity.  Mac felt for his pulse.  It was still there.  Weak, but there.  Now he just had to wait.

Waiting had never been Mac’s strong suit.  He liked to _do_ something.  It was nearly impossible for him to hold still, hence the plethora of paper clip sculptures scattered at home and at Phoenix.  Here, he had nothing to keep him occupied.  He settled on the only thing he could think of.

 _Please, God,_ he prayed.  _Please, let him be alright.  Please, let him live long enough for me to tell him how I feel_.  He repeated it over and over, like a mantra.  Mac wasn’t a religious man.  He much preferred science, preferred things he could see and prove, but science couldn’t help him any more than it had.  This was his last resort.

Mac wasn’t sure how long he crouched there, watching the life drain slowly from Jack.  The cauterization had slowed the bleeding, but Jack was still unconscious, and he was by no means out of the woods.  A banging at the door startled him out of the dark place his thoughts were headed.

“The extraction team’s there,” Riley said in his ear.

“Thank god.”  Mac ran to let them in.  Two medics brushed past him, making a beeline for Jack.  Mac moved to follow, wanting desperately to see how his partner was, but one of the team stopped him.  “Let them do their job.  He’s in good hands.”

That did little to soothe Mac, but the man was right.  Reluctantly, Mac nodded.

The man clapped him on the shoulder.  “Let’s get you out of here, shall we?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hours later (how many, Mac wasn’t sure), Mac was slumped over in a waiting room chair, elbows on his knees, head resting on clasped hands.  Riley, Matty, and Bozer were seated nearby, but Mac was barely aware of anything but the ticking of the clock and the beating of his heart.  When she first got there, Riley had tried to get him to go home, get cleaned up, and get something to eat, but Mac had refused, so she’d sweet-talked someone into letting Mac use the staff showers and borrow some scrubs.  He sat in them now, his old clothes in a bundle beside him.  The ER staff had tried to convince him to throw them away, but Mac had stubbornly refused.  Right now, it was the only thing tying him to Jack.  If Mac held onto the clothes soaked in Jack’s blood, maybe Jack would hang on.  It wasn’t rational, but for once, Mac wasn’t capable of thinking rationally.

Footsteps sounded and stopped nearby, but Mac didn’t look up.  It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it was never for him.  This time, though, a voice broke into his thoughts.  “Mr. MacGyver?”

Mac looked up, searching the doctor’s face for a clue.  He knew the others had turned towards them, also waiting, but all Mac cared about was what the doctor had to say.  “How is he?”

“Mr. Dalton is stable.  He lost a lot of blood, but we were able to repair the damage.  We’re settling him in a room now.”

Mac let out the breath it seemed like he’d been holding ever since he got there.  “So, he’s going to be okay?”

The doctor’s voice was somber.  “It’s too soon to tell.  He’s still in critical condition.”

The relief Mac felt at the doctor’s first words disappeared, and his heart sped up in fear.  _Please, no, please, no,_ each beat seemed to say.  “Can I see him?” His heart beat changed.  _Please, please, please,_ it went.

“Yes, but just you because you’re listed as his next of kin.”  Mac hadn’t known that.  His heart leaped for joy at the thought of what that might mean.  _Calm down,_ he told it.  _It means you’re family.  Maybe he just thinks of you as a brother.  It doesn’t have to mean more_.  Mac couldn’t help but hope, though.

The doctor’s eyes flicked towards the other three.  “The rest of you might as well go home and get some rest.”

They nodded and filed out.  They stopped to hug Mac (Riley) or pat him on the shoulder (Matty and Bozer—but Bozer changed his mind at the last minute and enveloped his best friend in a huge hug).  The doctor waited until they left, then turned to Mac.  “Follow me.”

The doctor led Mac to a room.  The blond peeked in and saw Jack lying in a bed, pale and still, hooked up to more wires than Mac could count, the only sign that he was alive the constant beeping of the heart monitor.  “When will he wake up?” Mac asked.

“Not for a while,” the doctor replied.  “We have him in a medically induced coma for now.  We’ll start bringing him out in a day or so.”

“Can I stay?”

“I don’t recommend it,” the doctor said.  “It’s best if you go home and get some rest.  We’ll notify you if anything changes.”

“Please,” Mac begged.  “Please, I need to.”

“Alright,” the doctor said, reluctantly.  “I’ll have the nurse bring a cot in.  At least try to get some sleep.”

“I will,” Mac promised.  He did lie down once the cot was set up, but he couldn’t sleep.  He kept his eyes fixed on the monitor, watching as it counted each beat of Jack’s heart, every beat signaling that Jack was still alive.  Mac didn’t know how long he watched it before he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day passed in a blur.  Mac spent it at Jack’s side, holding tight to his hand, trying to ignore how limp and cold it felt.  At one point, Riley texted, and Mac sent an update.  At another point, a nurse tried to get him to leave and eat something, but Mac refused, and she finally gave up and brought him a tray.  The hospital food was terrible, but Mac ate it anyway.  Anything not to have to leave Jack’s side.

The following morning, the doctor came in and checked Jack over.  “I think we can start bringing him out now.”

Mac let out a sigh of relief.  “Thank god.”

“It may still be a while before he wakes up,” the doctor warned.  “His body’s suffered a huge trauma, and it needs time to heal.”

“That’s okay,” Mac said.  “I’ll be here.”

The doctor sighed.  “I suppose it’s no use telling you to go home.”

“Nope,” Mac said.  “I’m staying.”

“Alright then.  Call us if you need anything or anything changes.”  His voice softened as he rested a hand on Mac’s shoulder.  “He must mean a lot to you.”

“He means everything to me,” Mac said.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As the doctor had said, Jack didn’t wake up until the next day.  Mac was still by his side, but he’d gotten restless, and Bozer had brought a magazine to keep him occupied.  Mac couldn’t concentrate, though, always attuned to any possible movement from Jack.

When it came, Mac thought he imagined it at first.  It was just a faint twitch of Jack’s hand in Mac’s.  Mac hardly dared to hope when he felt it again, followed by a low groan.  “Jack?” Mac said, hopefully.

Jack groaned again, then said in a faint voice, “Mac?”

Tears of joy streamed down Mac’s face, and he didn’t even try to hold them back.  “I’m here buddy.  I’ll just let them know you’re awake.”  He rang for the nurse, never letting go of Jack’s hand.

“Wha’ happened?”

“You got shot, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”  Jack was silent for a moment, and Mac thought he’d fallen asleep again until he spoke.  “Didn’t think I was going to make it.”

“Neither did I,” Mac confessed, tears falling even more freely.  “God, Jack, I was so scared.  I was so afraid I was going to lose you.”

“’M still here.”

“I know.  I’m so glad.  I don’t know what I would have done without you.  I don’t think I could survive if anything happened to you.”

Jack squeezed his hand.  “I know.  Same with you.”

“No, Jack, it’s not the same,” Mac said.  “You don’t understand.  You’re not just my best friend, Jack.  I love you.  Head over heels _in_ love with you.  More than I think I ever loved Nikki.  Losing you would be worse than losing her.”

Jack didn’t say anything, and Mac was afraid he’d ruined everything with his confession.  “Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.  You can forget I said anything.”  He went to withdraw his hand, but Jack held on tight.

“Don’t wanna forget.  Love you, too,” he said.

Mac was elated.  There went his stupid heart again, leaping for joy.  “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jack said.  “Told you so.”

“Thought you meant it like a brother.”

“No,” Jack said.  “I’m in love with you.  You’re everything to me.”

Mac smiled as the last of his tears dried up.  “Same here.”

“So, you going to kiss me or what,” Jack said, smiling.  It was a shadow of his usual grin, but Mac had never seen anything so wonderful.

“Or what,” Mac said, as he leaned down to seal his lips with Jack’s.


End file.
